I went to what can best be described as a "cell phone picnic" at the NCPA Theater this evening in Mumbai.

Instead of being told to flip off their cell phone before the show, attendees were encouraged to call a series of mobile numbers. The corresponding mobiles were on stage set to vibrate. Each one was positioned at different angles over loose guitar strings.

Above is an MP3 snippet of the cell phone symphony in action. It was a fun way to hook into India's ubiquitous cell phone use. It was also a nice tongue-wag to theater etiquette.

I enjoyed it though the older couple in front of me exited the theater with an irritated gait. “What’s the point of this?” one asked me.

The performance was presented by German audio technicians Bettina Wenzel and Hans Koch. John Cage followers - to be sure. Koch joked with me after the performance “no one in India uses vibrate on their mobiles.” He hoped this would be an ear-opener.

Indian farmer Havantro Deshmukh criss-crosses his 20-acre cotton plantation in Eastern Maharashtra - barefoot. He wiggles his toes through the spongy mud, unearthing a snarl of cow dung and worms –instant markers of his organic street cred.

Deshmukh converted his farm from chemical to organic nearly a decade ago. Since, then, he says his consistent profit has helped him to "escape debt" and conceivably death in a part of rural Maharashtra known as India’s suicide belt.

In 2006, more than 1,000 suicides were reported in the Vidarbha region of Maharashtra - that's one suicide every eight hours.

Deshmukh equates the suicide-prone quarter to a separate country all together. “This is Bharat, Bharat means Village,” Deshmukh declares. He points toward the road out of town. “That is India and India means city.” And in a single gesture, Deshmukh has encapsulated India’s rural-urban divide.

I’ve been excavating this divide through a series of video pieces for the Wall Street Journal. I have just completed a print/video companion for WSJ on the benefits of organic farming in a drought-torn India. Check it out

It’s all part of the Operation: Swine-Flu-Avoidance. There have been nearly two dozen swine flu deaths in India thus far and just over 2,000 cases.

And people are freaked thanks primarily to news media hysterics. In 2007 more than 331,000 died from TB in India alone. There have barely been 30 swine flu deaths and you’d think an asteroid was about to hit with the impact it’s had. The only possible explanation: TB impacts impoverished slum dwellers. Swine Flu has impacted the media-hungry middle class.

Consequentially, all of the schools here in Mumbai have been closed for a week – that includes 1,1000 state schools, 350 colleges and a slew of private schools. And don’t try escaping to Bollywood. The cinemas are closed for two more days.

Bombay has become a masquerade of surgical-masks. A funny sight when you consider that most doctors wear masks to protect patients from their germs - not the other way around. These strap-ons are no more than a placebo. They are meant to be discarded after a few days lest they become breeding grounds for bacteria. Many here, however, invest in one (now at 4x the original asking price) and treat it as if it is an article of clothing – to be worn until it disintegrates.

Gotta love Facebook, by the way, for offering innovative takes on social tidal wives.One recent update read: “Around 2,000 ppl in India get Swine Flu and everyone wants to wear a surgical mask – 20 million people have AIDS and nobody wants to wear a condom! Wake up!!”

Logic aside, a friend of mine who works for AFP concluded that most middle class Indians aren’t afraid of actually getting swine flu. Rather they are terrified of having to go to a toxic government hospital. Picture the reality there: stray blood-thirsty dogs, hundreds of coughing people crammed into a damp room – to the corner are brick piles of dead bodies covered in clothes with lifeless feet poking out.

That explains why there have been numerous reported hospital-breaks (aka prison breaks) from people who were admitted into hospitals with flu-like symptoms. Unable to stomach the conditions, they slipped out the back door. Just goes to show, the hospitals here may be sicker than the patients. Do they make surgical masks that big?

Prayers and chants were at a fever-pitch in India's holiest city of Varanasi on July 22nd as Indians witnessed this century's longest solar eclipse. I shot footage of the shadow crawling across the sun and over crowds gathered in the Varanasi waterways.

Swarms of locals took auspicious dips in the Ganges waterways. During the stretch of darkness, I could feel a tense sense of mortality. Everyone seemed to release a collective sigh of relief once the sun re-appeared. Sins forgiven. Above is some footage I gathered from the memorable morning.

I have been doing a series of video profiles on rural India for The Wall Street Journal. Most recently, I went to the Vidarbha region of Maharashtra, known by most as "India's Suicide Belt.”

Of the roughly 16,000 farmers who commit suicide annually in India, one quarter of them transpire in this drought-prone region. The farmers face high production costs met by low market prices and have trouble breaking even. They end up debilitated by hunger and debt. Suicide is their escape.

This year, the numbers could increase in such an erratic rainy season. I looked for a sliver of hope on this ongoing saga. There is an organic cotton farmer named Vasant Pohekar in the area who is encouraging more than 5 thousand at risk farmers in the region to make the shift to Organic Farming. This practice, with higher profit margins and lower input costs, is saving farmers’ money and quite possibly their lives.

The piece will be featured on the Wall Street Journal website in the coming week.

I shot ample footage of these women laborers. They spent up to 8 hours a day crab-walking through the fields plucking weeds at intense speeds. I, on the other hand, could barely handle 8 seconds. It was interesting to take their profession for a test-drive. It generated much respect and quite a few chuckles.

As a freelance journalist, I find it thrilling that I I can stick my thumb to the wind and use my instincts and curiosity to decide where on the earth to go next. Each country is a commission away. I had always longed to go to East Africa so that is exactly what I did this past June.

I started out in Kenya where I enjoyed an unforgettable Safari in Masai Mara. Here is a 30 second edit of some recreational filming I did.

It was amazing to see animals up-close and in their natural habitat. At one point, the protected van we were in stopped before a group of lionesses standing fully upright in pounce-mode. About 10 feet away was a small animal crouched in the brush. You could see its heart beat moving in ripples across it's shiny fur coat. I've never seen that type of fear in such a close and intimate way before. The lionesses did not find the prey, much to some of the insensitive photo-snapping tourists' dismay... some of whom were literally voicing coordinates to the active lionesses. Not sure if that is worse than a journalist I heard about who once ordered his pizza lunch to be delivered to a refugee camp, but it's pretty icky to say the least.